


CEO's Burden

by j520j



Series: Everybody Loves Aziraphale [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, M/M, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-25
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-19 16:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19977355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/j520j/pseuds/j520j
Summary: A boss who regretted firing his dearest employee.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [O Fardo do CEO](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19977397) by [j520j](https://archiveofourown.org/users/j520j/pseuds/j520j). 



> Part 1 of my Crack/Aziraphale series! - one-shot stories. You don't need to read the others to understand this one.
> 
> Feel free to point out any grammatical atrocity I have committed.

Aziraphale was walking across Newman Street with a candy packet in one hand and a bag of new books in the other. Two years had passed since Non-Armageddon and he valued every step he had taken in those noisy Soho streets ever since.

Perhaps, without even realizing it, humans knew they had escaped the End of Time, and most of them seemed eager to get their plans out of the drawer. Mortals seemed to have their emotions on their toes, something that didn't help the current political issue much or help lessen anxiety-related illnesses, but human literary production has never been so vast. Not to mention the fever of cooking realities shows that exponentially pushed the boundaries of this delicious art.

The angel had never had so much different to read and eat, and that made him very happy.

 _What a wonderful World!_ he thought every time he raised his head and glimpsed the sun rising through the clouds in the sky. _And to think we could have lost it all!_

Not that Heaven was that bad. Aziraphale missed the company of the other angels, though the gap between them and the bookseller increased with each passing century, each passing day. But they were always there to be, say, a horizon to be appreciated, but you know you'll never reach.

Sure, he could spend the rest of eternity without having to live with Sandalphon or Miguel, but he would really like to see Cassiel and Theliel someday. He could only hope that they would eventually appear on Earth and they would meet casually, for returning to Heaven was totally out of the question - not after he was sentenced to death.

Remembering this brought a cloud of sadness to his heart.

He was not himself when he was condemned to walk in the hellfire, of course, but Crowley made sure to tell every detail of what it was like.

 _Shut up and die already!_ said Gabriel, followed by one of those nasty bureaucratic smiles. The thought that his angelic brother, the one he had known since the beginning of time, didn’t even blink when ordering Aziraphale to destroy himself, caused immense bitterness to the bookseller.

"He could at least… have pushed me!" the angel suddenly exclaimed, startling the humans who passed him on the sidewalk. Crowley only obeyed the command because he knew he wouldn't be hurt by the flames, but what if it was really Aziraphale who was there? What would he do?

Fighting Gabriel and the others would be much the same as walking toward the fire. After all the archangels had also received flaming swords at the beginning of time and they certainly didn’t lose them. Even if it was just him against Gabriel, there was no chance for an out-of-shape Principality to defeat an Archangel at the top of his game.

Aziraphale could imagine: Gabriel, probably lifting him by the neck, and throwing him into the hellfire as calmly as throwing a sheet of paper into the shredder. Humans might boast that they had created a number of efficient administrative systems, but Gabriel was the one who had invented the 'Cut-Waste' jargon to get rid of anything that was useless to the Great Plan – he’d have coined this phrase during Lucifer's rebellion while seen their former companions falling, with their scorched wings, towards Hell.

The bookseller couldn’t understand how an angel, a creature that was to be made of love and compassion, could be so absurdly cold.

“I was just following orders!” Aziraphale could hear Gabriel speaking, in his bureaucratic voice. _Bah! This is the same fallacy that the Nazis used to justify the ..._

_Wait._

Aziraphale was sure he had heard the archangel's voice.

"Gabriel?!"

Looking to the side, through the window of the Nordic Bar, the bookseller can observe Gabriel. He was sitting at the counter, drinking one glass after another. His tall, noisy person was already beginning to bother other customers, as he could see on the faces of humans.

 _But what is he doing here?! And… drinking?!_ Aziraphale looked at the scene as if observing a Dadaist work of art for the first time. _I thought he said he didn't like to taint his body with food and drink!_

But it was him: Gabriel the archangel. He lifted the glass and turned it at once. He was completely drunk and saying random things that humans shouldn't hear.

“… and then Sammael said to the Almighty: Hey, s-s-six days ?! Is the deadline?! Whoooooah! How many h-h-hours do you intend to give for each day of this world, sixty?! And why put Earth orbiting this ridiiiiiiiiculous yellow dwarf star when there are muuuuuuuch bigger and brighter ones out there?!” he put his hand on the human shoulder without asking and spoke close to their faces with his drunken breath.

Uh-oh, things didn't look good, especially since the security guards at the bar had already been there. Although it was totally inadvisable, given Aziraphale's break with Heaven, he had better rescue his former boss from there.

"Uh, excuse me!" the angel appeared at the door of the bar, catching the attention of the people and, consequently, of the archangel. “Forgive my friend! He, hmmm, is a little altered and I better take him home... ”

“A-azi ...! Azzzzziraphaaaaaaaleeeeee!!! ”

Gabriel got up from the counter and ran toward his former employee, a frantic expression on his face. _OhnoOhnoOhno, I'm fucked!_ the bookseller closed his eyes, already expecting to be beheaded by a heavenly sword or something.

But what touched his neck was not the edge of a blade, but the strong arms of the taller man.

"Y-y-y-you-baaaaastard...!" Gabriel's voice trembled, as the rest of his body. “H-how… how dare you stab us in the back, damn you?! Y-you of all… ?! How dare you... ?! ”

Completely appalled, Aziraphale tried to straighten his body as Gabriel's weight nearly knocked them back. He could feel the moisture forming on his shoulder where the archangel had buried his face. _Is he crying?!?_

“Hey, blond! If this guy is your friend, you better pay his bill! ” exclaimed the bartender. “He wiped over four bottles of my best mead, and lots of beer! It's two hundred and eighty-four pounds! ”

"I ... I pay!" the angel motioned for three hundred pounds to appear miraculously in his hand, hoping that Gabriel (always so restricted with the use of miracles) would not notice. “Keep the change for the inconvenience! We're leaving! ”


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale had to use another miracle to teleport him and Gabriel without having to cross several streets with the archangel falling drunk. Inside the bookshop, the bookseller placed his former boss on the couch while making a strong coffee. He wasn't sure if Gabriel knew how to sober up on his own.

“Here!” the Principality offered a large cup of unsweetened coffee. "It's a bit bitter, but it will help you to recover."

Staggering, Gabriel tasted the liquid and then spat it out, smearing Aziraphale's face and clothes. The angel removed a handkerchief from his pocket and made a mental note to ask Crowley to perform that miracle of removing stains from clothing that the devil knew how to do so well.

"W-what are you ... doing here, Zira?!"

The bookseller was surprised. Not because of the absurdity of the question, but because Gabriel used his antediluvian (literally) nickname 'Zira'.

"Uh, this is my store."

"S-store?" the archangel turned his head with difficulty, finally realizing where he was. “Hoooow ... how did I get here? Y-you… kidnapped me?! ”

"What? No! I ... I just caught you at the bar before you got in trouble! By the way, I didn't know you drank, Gabriel.”

"Me neither ... ouch!" he put a hand on his head. “I was feeling… a little… a little sad… no, quite sad. Hah, teeeeeeerribly saaaaad! M-m-miguel said that the mortal's throat-burning drink could help ease the pain ... and ... hmmm ... it helped, for a while. Nhhhhgh! Then I needed some more ... also helped ... then another moooooooo ... ”

"Oh, how long have you been drinking, Gabriel?"

"Uh ... w-what day is today?"

"Tuesday."

The archangel raised a hand and began to count his fingers.

"T-two years."

Aziraphale widened his blue eyes as he stared into Gabriel's intoxicated purple eyes. That hadn't been his first carousing, and judging by the badly washed stains on his pale blue suit, he must have had bad hangovers in those last two years.

But the angel could make him feel better, although he needed permission first.

“Listen, I can make your drunkenness pass. Do you want?"

"Nnnhhh ... drun-k-neeeesss ...?"

“This is what you are feeling right now. The dizziness, the sickness in the stomach, the bad taste in the mouth. Do you want me to get rid of this for you? ”

"Y-yes ... I want ..."

"Well then ..." Aziraphale cupped Gabriel's face with both hands. "... so, excuse me."

Leaning forward, the angel made his lips touch the archangel's. Carefully, he gently placed his thumbs on Gabriel's chin to open his mouth and sucked in a single deep breath. All the alcohol inside Gabriel's sanctified body was gone. The owner of the Nordic Bar would be surprised to find that the empty bottles that had just been thrown away were full again.

The archangel turned away from the former employee, breathing heavily. The fog faded from his mind. He blinked a few times, regaining his composure.

"Ah ... I ... uh, thanks, Aziraphale." Gabriel said, somewhat uncertain. "What you did was ... uh ... what do humans call a ‘kiss’?"

"Oh, no! It wasn’t a kiss. It was just a… err… something humans do when a friend is drowning. ”

"Hmmm, right."

“Well, now that you're sober, would you like to talk about why you're so sad? Maybe I can help."

Gabriel cast a fearful glance at the bookseller. His lips moved a little, as if he wanted to talk about it, but the next instant he got a furious expression.

“Why, I… I… of course not! You are an enemy now, Principality Aziraphale! A traitor! And I won't confide with a traitor! ”

"And to whom else would you confide something?"

"Well, I ...!" the archangel stopped speaking, his lips turning into a straight line. “… I don’t owe you satisfaction! Where is the exit?"

"Listen, Gabe!" the angel stood in front of him, using the antediluvian nickname he used to call the archangel. “I know my relationship with Heaven is a little, as I would say, burned. But that doesn't mean I want to be your enemy! I know we have our differences, but I really think ... ”

The air disappeared from the bookseller's millennial lungs before he finished the phrase. Gabriel took him by the collar and pushed him against the wall so hard that even the books on the wall shelves fell.

"Don't you dare address me with that tone of intimacy, traitor!" the archangel growled. “I don't care if you're powerful enough to walk in hellfire without getting hurt and still able to spit demonic flames, I don't care! If you want to kill me, do it all at once, but spare me of your talk! I prefer to leave existence honorably, fighting for the right side! ”

"N-no ... more sides ... Gabriel!" Aziraphale was trying to catch his breath. “Please, I… I don't want to be your enemy! I don’t want ... to be anyone's enemy! Not even the Almighty wants this, since She didn't care about me and Crowley when we thwarted the Armageddon Plan! Please ... t-try to understand ...! ”

“Yes, God didn’t destroy you, even though you committed the greatest of sacrileges! You messed up Her plan and... and...! ”

The grip on the bookseller's collar loosened slightly, allowing Aziraphale's feet to touch the floor. The angel waited for his former boss to finish, but the end of the phrase never came. Unless you consider leaning your face against your enemy's shoulder and starting to cry is a good conclusion.

"G-g-gabriel ?!"

The archangel responded with a sob.

“Oh, dear... ! I ... uh ... don't cry! I'm here with you."

Gently, Aziraphale's arms wrapped around Gabriel's trembling body, which this time wasn't shaking with the influence of alcohol.

"There, there, let it go, my old friend." the bookseller caressed the taller man's back. "But if you don't want to say anything, that's fine."

They were holding each other, the archangel's arms around Aziraphale's waist. The angel could feel how deprived his former boss seemed of touch, of warmth. His need was tangible and heavy. They hugged each other tighter.

"A-all… all of this… wrong... !" Gabriel looked up, eyes red with tears. "I ... I don't understand! I know nothing!"

“Yes, sometimes it is complicated to understand the ineffable. It's hard ... to accept it. But if you want, I can make some tea and give you some cake while you talk about it. ”

"Wha... what is... tea?" the archangel rubbed his nose.

“It's a drink, but it doesn't get you drunk. Well, depending on which herb is used for the brew!” smiling, Aziraphale led his former boss back to the couch. "Stay here."

“No, I… I… I need to go back to Heaven! I ... need to work ... so many worksheets, so many...!”

"No, Mr. Workaholic!" the angel gripped the taller man's shoulders firmly and led him back to the couch. “You have been working diligently for six thousand years! You can take a few days off. ”

In a moment, a cup of tea and a huge slice of cake appeared before the archangel. He reluctantly tasted them both, encouraged by Aziraphale who filled his head with cooking comments to distract him from the main subject. The conversation went on smoothly, until suddenly Gabriel said:

"Sammael was right!"

“What?” the bookseller had a forkful of cake halfway to his mouth.

“S-sammael ... Lucifer! Morningstar! He... he was right! ”

Aziraphale's eyes widened. Was Gabriel, the greatest of the archangels, agreeing with the lord of Hell's ideas? After six thousand years, was he agreeing with his old enemy?

"Six days!" shouted the archangel.

"Uh?"

"Six! It's crazy to create a whole world in six days, isn’t?!” the archangel rose from the couch. “I didn't say anything at the time, but Sammael did! He said this would overwhelm the whole Host of work! To make matters worse, day and night were only set on Fourth Day, so nothing extra nightly! Ughh ... and so… Math was created. And at the same time, Anxiety! Do you remember, Zira ?! Do you remember what it was like?!”

"Sort of." the angel was smiling. He was glad to see Gabriel calling him by the nickname 'Zira' again.

“I did my best, you know? My best! My. Best! ” the archangel paced. “I, more than anyone, have always wanted Her plans to work out! I really wanted! The apotheosis of our triumph would be Armageddon, but then ... so ... boom! The end and not the way I expected! No war, no battle, no glory or victory! Was this what we worked so hard for? For ... nothing ?!”

“We don't work for nothing, Gabe! We have done many good things. We help humans by leading them to good thoughts and to peace. Yes, there were difficult times, times when war and despair seemed to thrive, but we always came around, didn't we? Look at the world today! Despite the odds, there has never been a moment with so many peace and prosperity in human civilization! ”

“Human civilization?!” Gabriel's purple eyes threatened to spark with anger again. “What do I care about humans?! I am worried about our war! Our enemies! The Apocalypse should have ended with our victory over the demonic Host! But then we... we ...! ”

"We are at peace now."

"Hell still exists!"

“True, but imagine the alternative. The Earth would have been destroyed, just like humanity.”

"And all Creation would be living in the utmost harmony!" the archangel opened his huge arms. For a moment Aziraphale thought his wings would materialize. “A new world would be created over the wreckage of the old! The Antichrist would become the New Christ, with our influence, and the world would start over from scratch! And this time, everything would be different! ”

“Gabe, didn't the Deluge teach you anything? Exterminating everything to start from scratch didn't work last time. And we already had a moment of total harmony in the first week of Creation and you know it didn't last long. ”

“Yes… it didn't last long. It's all Sammael's fault, it's all damn Lucifer's fault! Satan! Devil! Rejected!”

"You just said you agreed with him."

"I said that?!"

“Yes, you said. And you wasn't even drunk. ”

“I… uh… I just think certain administrative issues could have been handled more efficiently, and less hurriedly, in the first week of Creation, just this! But I don't ... I don't ...! ”

"That's it, Gabriel!"

"This what?"

“Free will!” Aziraphale rose from the couch and walked toward the archangel with a smile. “Sammael was the first to have a dissenting opinion, and with this he also took with him other angels. And the angels choose to follow him. This is free will. A perfect world as you intended, with only one side, wouldn’t even allow you to think of more efficient forms of organizational management. ”

“But… but… my opinions are not sins! I could have a dissenting opinion about the way She conducts things and still be working for the Greater Good! ”

“That is the point: to the Good to exist, there must be Evil. And people need free will to choose one of the two. But a world where only Good existed would have no more choices. This wouldn’t only be the end of humanity, Gabe, but our end as well. What would be the use of angels in a world where there is only Good?”

Aziraphale knew Gabriel didn't have much imagination, but judging by the sweat that sprang from his broad forehead, the archangel tried. And he doesn't seem to like the conclusion he came to.

"I ... I think I need another throat-burning drink ..."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"So what do you suggest?!" the archangel sat on the couch, his hands wrapping around his face. “I… I don't know what to do anymore! The more I think about what happened two years ago, when I think about what might have happened, I ... I ... oh, so many questions spring from my mind that all the time I need to look back to make sure my wings didn’t turn black from so many doubts! I'm… am… disbelieving...!”

He paused, allowing the angel to kneel before him and lightly touch his hands, lowering them from his face.

"I know how you feel."

“No, you don't know!” was his harsh statement. “You… you are… you are _you_ , Aziraphale! A demoted Cherub for being stupid enough to lose your flaming sword! A Principality who stuffs himself with human food, collects books that will one day become dust and does too many miracles for stupid reasons! You always signed the papers too late, you're always fraternizing too much with humans and, may She preserves me, with _demons_! You were responsible for the failure of the Armageddon! You are a fat and clumsy idiot! You are...!"

The archangel paused, staring into Aziraphale's blue eyes, hoping to find anger, fear, indignation or even a sign that the angel was about to let out a breath of demonic fire and toast him right where he was.

But the bookseller's serene expression, which even smiled a smile of understanding at all the poison being poured over him, completely disarmed him. In an impulsive motion, the archangel grasped the angel's face with both hands and made his foreheads touch.

“Oh, Almighty Beloved Merciful Lord of Eternity!” tears fell from Gabriel's eyes. "I ... I miss you _so much_ , you idiot!"

If it were possible to be even more shocked, Aziraphale would be. But no. His former boss had already done and said things that would have astonished him for the next century.

 _Gabriel ... did you miss me?!_ it was almost impossible for him to believe.

The two angels have always had a friendly relationship which, over time, became only cordial and then merely professional. A boss and an employee, nothing more than that. And now, it seemed, Gabriel had more to hide than he looked.

The taller man was paralyzed, unsure what to do. He wanted to do something, but had no idea what. In response to his longing, Aziraphale's hands reached his face and the bookseller gently began with a brush of lips. Gradually his tongue began to work its way into Gabriel's mouth. The archangel was not quite sure what to do, so he just let the Principality lead the movement, letting out soft hums.

When their lips parted, they both realized that they were tightly embraced and lying on the couch with the bookseller on top.

"W-why did you do this ...?" Gabriel asked, almost begging for the answer. "I... I'm not drunk this time ..."

"This time it was a kiss." the angel lightly touched the archangel's wet lips with his thumb. "And if you want more of them, among other things, come with me to my bedroom."

Gabriel seemed torn between faith and temptation. But the truth is that nothing seemed to be able to make his arms come loose from Aziraphale's body. With a guilty smile, he nodded and let himself be led into the bedroom.


	3. Chapter 3

1751, Paris - France

In a clandestine print shop, Jean le Rond d'Alembert finishes reviewing the last pages of what he hoped would be the ultimate work of human knowledge: _Encyclopédie, or dictionnaire raisonné des sciences, des arts et des metiers._

It was a very hard work, especially with church protests that believed the knowledge was too valuable to distribute to anyone. 'Knowledge is power,' was what they said.

"So this book will turn any man who reads and understands it into God!"

The back door of the press opened suddenly, startling the philosopher. He feared they were guards wanting to destroy his manuscripts, as they had done before, but to his relief, who appeared on the press was an old acquaintance.

“Mounsieur Fell! You scared me to death! ”

"I'm sorry, but I just couldn't contain my anxiety!" the blond man was elegantly dressed, though his tight vest dampened his overweight too much. “Is it done? _La Encyclopedie_? ”

"Not yet. I need Diderot to help me with some articles. But the first half is ready and has already been printed. Look!"

The philosopher handed to his English friend some manually printed pages without binding. Fell was amazed. He had seen many such books, brave attempts to gather all the human knowledge of each generation, but he had never seen such careful work.

"I need a copy!" he exclaimed, flipping through the pages. “Signed! I want your signature, and Diderot's, Rousseau's, Voltaire's ...! ”

"You really like books, don't you, Mounsieur Fell?"

The man opened his mouth to answer but stopped. Almost did not commit the blasphemy to speak: _I don't like books, I workship them!_

"Yes, I like." the blonde smiled. "In fact, I plan to open a book store."

"Are you sure? Books are wonderful, but they are very expensive. Unfortunately, even with all the technology we have with modern printers, prices are still prohibitive for most of the population.” the philosopher let out a long breath of frustration. “Besides, I understand that England is going through a difficult financial period. You may open the bookstore, but maybe you can't sell a single book. ”

"I hope so!"

"What?"

“Oh, it's nothing, my dear friend! And speaking of money, I brought a few pounds with me. I want to pay in advance for five copies!” with an extravagant gesture, the money came into Fell's hands. “And remember I want all them signed!”

The money came at a good time, as d'Alembert had to buy more paper in order to produce the book. The two men said goodbye and the Englishman made his way down Champs-Elysées Avenue, happy and proud to have been one of several people contributing to the rise of the Encyclopédie.

But there was someone walking in the square who was not happy with him at all.

A heavy hand gripped his shoulder. Startled, Fell turned and faced a pair of unflappable purple eyes.

"G-gabriel ...?!"

"Aziraphale," the man began slowly. He was wearing a dark blue doublet, a vest with silver brocades and elegant white shoes. "Again exceeding your quota of miracles."

“Errr ... yes, but it was for a good cause! I helped some humans produce a book that will change the course of history! ”

“And is this course in line with Her plans?”

The blond angel opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated.

“You know our job here is to realize the Great Plan!”

“I know… I, uh, I'm sure helping these humans spread the knowledge is part of Her plans! How could it not? After all, the more knowledge, the more humans will improve their technology, their health and their compassion for others. People will be happy! ”

"But the way you do it is totally counterproductive!" criticized the archangel. "Why spend so much energy on these crumbs when you could be joining forces to do something bigger?"

"I don't mind wasting energy when the cause is noble."

"You DON'T care?!?"

"Uh ... I ... I mean, when the cause is noble, it's worth the effort! I know it seems like a lot of wasted energy for small results, but one day they will come to fruition and turn into big results!"

"You've been here on Earth for too long, Principality."

Aziraphale swallowed hard. When Gabriel used hierarchy nomenclatures, it meant that the archangel was angry.

“Gabriel, please… try to understand! I'm just trying to help, I swear! I am an angel, I couldn't lie even if I wanted to! I know I have done some things here on Earth that are not part of the Great Plan, but my intentions are good! ”

"Hell is full of good intentions."

The two angels were silent for a moment, looking into each other's faces. Aziraphale looked surprised and Gabriel serious. But his seriousness didn't last long when the straight line that formed his mouth began to curl into a smile. And soon after, a laugh.

"Hahaha! Did you like the phrase?” the archangel shook his employee by the shoulder more forcefully. “It was Miguel who created it! Isn't it fantastic? ‘Hell is full of good intentions’, it's amazing!”

“Y-y-yes ... very a-amazing!”

"But back to our subject, you know I care about you, don't you?"

"Oh, do you care about me?!" the angel's blue eyes seemed to glow.

"Uh, yes, how I care about everyone!" the archangel released Aziraphale's hand as if he were shocked. “After all, I'm always too busy with paperwork and I don't have time to inspect everyone's work as I should! Mostly yours, Aziraphale! You are by far the angel longest dwelling here on Earth. You only go back to Heaven when we call you to deliver the reports.”

"Well, I like to do my job diligently."

"Maybe you need a vacation."

"I ... vacation ?!"

“Paid vacations, of course! Nothing that will take you away from work much. Let's say ... how about five years? Am I not a generous boss?”

"Y-yes... yes... you are, Gabriel ..." the angel could barely hide his disappointment. “But listen, I don't need such a long vacation! I mean, how about six months? It will be enough for me to rest! ”

"Three years and no more talking about it." the archangel now spoke in a commanding tone. “Take your head off the Earth and humans, Aziraphale. Your obsession with them is not doing you any good! ”

Before the Principality could protest, Gabriel ascended to the heavens, leaving him alone in the Champs-Élysées.

 _You don't understand, Gabe._ Aziraphale thought, looking at the sky sadly. _And I ... I don't have the heart to explain to you. But I wanted so much ... so much that one day you would understand my point of view! We could finally understand each other better._

........................................................

20XX (two years after Non-Armageddon), London - England

It was Wednesday when the two angels awoke from their pleasant sleep, in each other's arms. Aziraphale woke up first and stroked Gabriel's hair, laying his head on his chest. He took the opportunity to admire the archangel's naked body in the morning light: he was magnificent. Tall, strong, shapely, and though inexperienced in the arts of pleasure, he had plenty of breath.

Gabriel woke up a moment later and, with narrowed eyes, began to caress the round curves of Aziraphale's body - the same ones he always criticized, though secretly desired them. For millennia he hadn't felt so well.

"Good morning, Gabe," muttered the bookseller, smiling. "Sleep well?"

"Hmmm, I haven't slept in a long time, Zira," replied the archangel, giving little kisses all the way to Aziraphale's blond chest. “I never had to, not after that event that really exhausted me, two thousand years ago. But you've exhausted me even more, Principality. ”

"Glad to hear it."

The two exchanged smiles for a moment, until a cloud of worry crossed Gabriel's face.

"I ... uh ... we shouldn't have done that."

“Why not?” Aziraphale kissed the archangel, trying to make him relax. "What we did was the result of love, there is nothing wrong with that."

"But ... but-this shouldn't have happened!"

"Why not?"

"Because ... oh, you don't belong in Heaven anymore."

"And? I may not belong to Heaven, but so little do I belong to Hell. And it's not as if the Almighty couldn't read what's inside our hearts. If neither of us has been pulverized yet, it's because She doesn't care. ”

"She... doesn't care about us?"

"I think I formulated the wrong sentence." Aziraphale knelt on the bed. “God certainly has more important sins to worry about than caring about shady friendships. Believe me, I also had this fear during the time Crowley and I were friends, until I realized that there was nothing wrong with that. ”

"But ... the Great Plan ...!" Gabriel still didn't seem convinced. “During all these millennia we worked to make Heaven overcome! Heaven is the right way!"

"Heaven is _one_ right way, but it's not the only one." Aziraphale kissed the archangel before he opened his mouth to protest. "And looking more carefully, perhaps Non-Armageddon was exactly what She planned!"

That thought seemed to spark a light of understanding in Gabriel's eyes. The angel had seen that look on his boss on previous occasions before much less brilliant statements (such as "You can't have a war without War.") but this time the archangel seemed really enlightened.

"Do you think... that ultimately we follow the Great Plan?"

"Hey, good guys always win, right?" the blond angel winked. “If we are here, happy and in each other's arms, who could say this is not a victory?”

Grinning from ear to ear, Gabriel leaned toward Aziraphale, taking him in his arms and kissing him deep and long. The archangel's lips began to lightly drop to the ch line, the neck, and then the bookseller's left nipple, which gave a groan of satisfaction as he dug his nails into Gabriel's scalp. But after a few moments the archangel suddenly stopped.

"I ... I have to go."

"No, Gabe!" Aziraphale begged. "Please stay."

"I can't." His voice was resolute. He got out of bed and with a snap of his fingers covered his naked body with clothes. "I really have to go."

"Gabe ..."

Casting one last look at his former employee, followed by a bureaucratic smile, Gabriel disappeared.

.........................................

Aziraphale didn't open the store that day.

He lay in bed, unable to get up. Occasionally he would make one of the books in his collection magically appear in his hands to read and distract, but he couldn't concentrate on anything.

When night came, he finally got up to make some tea. He was sad, but not for him, for Gabriel.

 _Closed to your own feelings, totally focused on work, on being productive, on being perfect ... I've been there._ the angel thought as he sipped his black tea. _Unable to think of fun, friendship, love ... just work to make the Great Plan work. And then, the Great Plan doesn't go as planned and it gets totally lost. Poor Gabriel!_

As if reading his mind, the archangel appeared once more in the bookstore, materializing before the bookseller.

“Gabe!” Aziraphale smiled, but soon after acquired a serious stance. "I ... uh ... Gabriel, how are you?"

"I'm fine." the expression on the archangel's hard face was indecipherable. "I went to Heaven and called an extraordinary meeting with the other archangels.

"Oh. And ... what was the subject?”

"You."

"Oh, me?!?"

“Remember, around the year 1751 of Our Lord, when I began to warn you that you were using too many miracles?”

"Uh, when I ... I started raising money to fund the first edition of the Encyclopedia?"

“Was it for this? Yeah, it must have been.” the archangel cleared his throat. “You spent the last decades of that century performing many miracles related to the creation of money, ink, paper and leather covers. Not to mention, of course, the special permission to make the 'multiplication of brioches' enough to feed five thousand people. ”

"Uh, yes ... I think I ended up exceeding myself ..."

"At that time, I was about to withdraw your permission to stay on Earth, did you know?"

That took Aziraphale completely by surprise. The angel trembled at the thought of being cast out of the Earth. The worst of his nightmares.

"And what made you change your mind?"

"You."

Definitely, Aziraphale's quota of surprises was complete for the next two centuries.

"I realized you loved your work," continued the angel, looking down. “You loved it more than anything. And I never understood why. I could never see what was so extraordinary about this world filled with imperfect humans. For me, imperfection has always been something that got in the way of the Great Plan, something that created problems, something that generated unhappiness. ”

"Got in the way ... created ... generated ..." the angel murmured. “You've used all these verbs in the past tense, Gabe. Does that mean you changed your mind? ”

The archangel slowly closed his purple eyes. He took a deep breath and said:

“At the meeting, I talked to the other archangels about what we talked about, which, in the end, you might have been right and the Great Plan came to fruition even without a war. That maybe God's will has always been this, and that punishing you instead of promoting it was a mistake. ”

"And what they said?"

“After Miguel threw an office chair at me? Well ... they said they would take this one of mine, hmmmm, ‘misalignment with the company's DNA’ to Metatron. And that he was going to write a long report about me about my ideas 'excessively out of the box' to God. ”

“Uh… so what? Did you have an answer? ”

"Yes, I had."

At that moment Gabriel's face lit up with a smile. A real smile, not the ones he used for business etiquette alone.

“I have been allowed to stay here on Earth for three years!”

“Wonderful!” Aziraphale smiled from ear to ear. “This is wonderful, Gabe! But could I know why they allowed you to stay here? ”

"They said I, hmmmm, should improve my know-how about the issues of this new Post-Non-Armageddon era, that I should stick around and learn some things from you." He paused, blushing a little. “Especially about 'imperfection' and, contrary to what many people thought, is also capable of generating happiness. A lot, a lot of happiness! And I don't think anything that creates happiness is out of Her plans. ”

"For sure! In fact, if imperfection did not exist, there would be no need for a Great Plan, would it?

“Ooooh, let's take it easy! There are still many paradoxes I need to understand! ”

"Yes of course! And, well, where do you want to start learning more about imperfections? Want to take a look at some editions of my philosophy books? I have a book about Wabi Sabi that might interest you.”

"Actually, I ... I ... uh ..." the archangel cleared his throat.

"Yes?"

"I ... I would most like to know about this rather imperfect question about the ... err ... of the 'waste of energy for recreational purposes', if you understand me." the archangel blushed to the ear. “I don't know if it's a good topic to start with, but… hmmm… I don't know. Do you think is a good idea?”

Aziraphale answered with a kiss. He wrapped his arms around the archangel's neck and tiptoed, his lips together for a long time. When the Principality finally broke the kiss, Gabriel let out a sigh of satisfaction and then asked:

"Was that ... was that a yes?"

"Do I need to write a report to formalize my decision?" the bookseller smiled , leading the archangel by the hand to his room. “Come on, Intern Gabriel! Tonight we will have a long and tiring lesson on 'energy waste for recreation' and you can prepare to waste a lot, a lot of energy! ”


End file.
